


past lives

by Skyson



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coulace, F/M, M/M, Secret Relationship, Trip Lives, mace lives, post 4x18, using LMD's for good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-10-23 17:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10723917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: Past lives couldn't ever hold me downLost love is sweeter when it's finally foundI've got the strangest feelingThis isn't our first time aroundPast lives couldn't ever come between usSometimes the dreamers finally wake upDon't wake me I'm not dreamingDon't wake me I'm not dreaming...





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> I encourage you to listen to "Past Lives" by Borns. It didn't directly inspire this fic, but I listened to it a few times as I was writing and it does fit with my idea.

* * *

 

He gasped awake, limbs scrambling for a moment as he didn't recognize where he was. The sheets quickly tangled around him, and he kicked them off frantically, pushing himself up off the bed and onto his feet.

He was in his quarters.

He looked down, noticing that he was dressed in his pajamas.

"What the hell is going on?"

Jeffrey Mace looked up, frowning at himself in the mirror.  


* * *

 

 

He gasped awake, a small quiet sound, jerking his head up quickly and looking around. He was alone, as he had been when he'd fallen asleep, face-down on his curled arms atop the desk.

His desk, now.

He sat up only slightly, wincing as he pulled the black tie a little loose from his collar. He was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. Not very well, anyhow.

He hadn't slept a full night since breaking out of the Framework. The base was in shambles, again, and there were still agents' bodies that needed identified, and Talbot needed briefing, and the media needed updating, and....

And, and, and.

Coulson slumped back into the chair, staring blindly in the general direction of the desk. A moment later the door opened, and while he may have heard it, he didn't react.

"Coulson?" Daisy's voice drifted carefully across the room, and it was another long moment before he dragged his eyes up toward her.

She was still wearing her funeral clothes, too.

She looked sad, and worried. For him, no doubt, but he didn't care.

He looked back at the desk.

Another silent minute, and there was a thunk against the desk as Daisy set something atop it. She slipped back out of the office without saying anything else, and when Coulson eventually moved again, he saw that she had left a bottle of his favored whiskey.

And two shot glasses.

His hands shook as he poured the first, reverently placing the glass in the middle of the desk. He then poured the second and held it in his hand for a second before saluting it toward the first glass.

He swallowed the burning liquid before the burning in his eyes managed to fully form the tears that had been threatening all day. And then he reached for the bottle again.  


* * *

 

 

_The building began to crumble apart around them, but he was frozen to the spot, staring at the pile of rubble where Mace had just disappeared._

_Except that wasn't just The Patriot, just Jeffrey Mace, just an Inhuman superhero saving a kid's life. That was..._

_Coulson's chest ached painfully as he stared wide-eyed, blinking through the dust._

"Coulson?"

_"Coulson...?" Struggling for breath, searching with his words before managing to get eyes on the other man._

_"I'm right here, Jeffrey, hang on," Coulson promised, putting his hand on Jeff's knee. Jeff only looked down at him silently for a moment, his expression making Coulson's chest feel even worse._

_"Go."_

_"No," Coulson immediately argued, not entirely understanding why, but desperate to stay right here. To figure out a way..._

_The building shook violently, unable to withstand the damage for any longer, and Jeff dropped to his knee as he bore even more of the weight of it on his shoulders._

_"GO!" He shouted at them through gritted teeth._

"Coulson."

He opened his eyes but didn't move, knowing immediately that he'd fallen asleep at the - _his_  - desk again. This was his office, once more. He needed to get used to thinking of it as such.

He rolled his head so that his forehead was now pressed against the desk instead of his cheek, not wanting Daisy to get too close of a look at him. He was sure that he looked like shit.

"How long has it been since you've properly slept?" She asked gently, standing across the desk from him now. She was deeply concerned for him, he could tell. He loved her for it, but he didn't have the strength to give her a reassuring smile.

"I haven't." He answered honestly, swallowing thickly as he tried to contain his emotion. A tear splashed onto the desk beneath him, but Daisy wouldn't be able to see it from where she was standing.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She tried. (She knew the story; Jemma had told her once they had managed to find one another again, and had a few moments to breathe.)

"No." Coulson muttered into his desk, another tear falling.

"Phil,"

" _Please_ ," Coulson begged her, more than ordered, his voice breaking.

He heard the door click quietly closed as she left him alone once again, and he clenched shaking fists atop the desk as he gritted his teeth, trying to fight off the urge to shout his anguish against the wooden furniture.  


* * *

 

 

A few days later, he awoke from the file he'd fallen asleep on top of, discovering a bowl of soup in front of him, and then Daisy sitting in the chair across. She was lounging across it, in a way that indicated she'd been there for a while.

She had a peculiar look of understanding in her eyes, and Coulson released a long and heavy breath.

She didn't speak, though - she just watched him eat the chicken noodle soup, waiting until he'd finished the whole thing. (It was pretty good, and still warm, and what had he ever done to deserve her?)

"I really thought," Coulson eventually offered her, his voice rough from too much shouting, too much crying, too much whiskey. "After everyone, _all the people_  I've lost, I really thought he wouldn't be one of them." He bowed his head, staring at his hands in his lap. He didn't want to see the expression she probably had on her face.

"I'm sorry." Daisy murmured mournfully, in the tone of voice of someone who knew that while those words were all she could offer, they weren't nearly enough.

"I can't close my eyes without seeing his face, Daisy, his face when he," Coulson looked up at her now, anguished. "He never remembered me. He died for me, for all of us, and he never remembered..."

He dropped his head back down onto his desk, facedown into the palms of his hands. He felt the tears truly starting to fall, now, and he didn't want Daisy to see. His shoulders shook, though, and a sob slipped out before he could hold it back.

Then she was moving close, her hands on his shoulder and back, turning his chair so she could hug him properly. He slumped against her, too sad and too tired to shrug her away. And, anyway, some part of him remembered that she gave the best hugs, and maybe it would help him feel a little better. At least momentarily. Enough to pull himself together.

"I'm so sorry, AC," She whispered, her arms wrapped around him firmly, "I'm so sorry."

He realized that she was crying, too.

She knelt there awkwardly in front of his chair, holding him for an untold amount of time, never once pulling away until he made the gesture to do so.

She didn't ask him any questions; instead she placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him softly on his forehead.

"You can talk to me, AC. Any time." She promised him, brushing her thumbs against his cheekbones, wiping away the wetness there.

He nodded inside of her embrace, his eyes still closed. He was exhausted - he'd been exhausted for days, now - but it was finally catching up to him. Daisy knowingly guided him to his feet, abandoning the empty bowl and spoon on his desk and leading him toward the door.

They walked together toward his quarters, his own head lowered to avoid directly meeting anyone's gaze. He didn't want their looks of pity, and he definitely didn't feel like talking anymore.

Daisy seemed to understand immediately; acting as a buffer for him with any of the agents they passed, and ushering him inside of his own room without a word once they'd reached it.

She gently pushed him toward the bed as she disappeared into his bathroom, eventually reappearing with a glass of water in her hand. She set it on the side table as he kicked his shoes off and got into the bed, turning his back to her and reaching out for one of the pillows, unashamedly cuddling it tightly against him as he curled up into as much of a ball as he could muster.

The room was quiet, and he suddenly panicked slightly.

"Daisy?" He wondered, staring at the empty space in the bed in front of him.

"I'm here," Daisy promised from behind him, her warm hand resting against his back, between his shoulder blades.

He closed his eyes.  


* * *

 

 

"Jemma." Daisy walked into the lab with a quiet determinedness about her. Jemma looked up with concern, wondering if something was wrong. "Can we talk somewhere alone?" Daisy requested, and Jemma immediately caught the attention of the few other lab techs that were in the room.

"Can you give us a few minutes? Why don't you guys grab some lunch." Jemma suggested, and they all nodded dutifully and left the lab, shutting the door behind them.

Daisy, aware of every single camera angle in the base, pulled Jemma to an area where the high shelves would block their faces, so no one would be able to read their lips and discover what they were saying.

"What's wrong?" Jemma asked quietly, and Daisy shook her head.

"Nothing." She assured her, then pressed her lips tightly together for a second. "Well... How's the Trip project coming?"

Jemma's eyes lit up at the mention.

"I just spoke with Sam this morning. He says he thinks they're almost ready. The blueprints from..." Jemma frowned deeply for a second. "He says the blueprints we've provided helped them figure out why their original project hadn't worked. And he assured me that their LMD's won't be able to be programmed or controlled by evil robots." Jemma laughed a little, clearly quoting Sam himself there.

"So once he's unplugged, he's..." Daisy wondered, trailing off, and Jemma nodded.

"Free to make his own choices." Jemma's hands flitted nervously over some random tool on the table. "Hopefully we've provided enough memories that he won't... that he'll be good."

Daisy rested her hand on her friend's arm, giving her a soft smile.

"This is the Koenig's we're talking about. They know what they're doing." Daisy assured, and Jemma nodded, relaxing.

"He'll know he's not the 'our' Triplett, but he's a Triplett from another world. Another universe."

"Like a parallel universe?" Daisy followed, and Jemma nodded again.

"L.T. tells me that's the only way he'll be able to accept that he is Triplett, but he's also not? And it's not _entirely_  a lie, after all..." Jemma grimaced, recalling their time in the Framework.

"We need to contact them before they're finished. Before they retrieve the parts of Trip from the Framework." Daisy informed her, and she raised her eyebrows as she gave Daisy a sideways look.

"Why?" She asked slowly, and Daisy lowered her voice even further, although it was still just the two of them in the room,

"There's someone else in there we need to save."

Jemma blinked for a moment, and then frowned.

"Daisy, there is no one else 'alive' in there. They are all generated memories, computer code, pre-programmed by AIDA,"

"Not all of them. Someone - hell if I know how - managed to survive." Daisy shook her head, mentally kicking herself. "We all were so sure that he hadn't survived; we just _left him there_ ,"

Jemma sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment.

"You're talking about the Director," She half questioned, breathing it out. "You're talking about Mace. Are you sure? That building..."

"I've contacted him." Daisy told her, and she blinked in shock.

"You _what_? _How_? Did you go back in there?!" Jemma sounded like she was about to scold her friend, but Daisy hurriedly spoke before she could,

"No, no no no," Daisy held up her hands in a 'hold on' gesture, "It's kind of complicated and involves a lot of computer code. We figured out a way to message one another." She clenched her jaw in a moment, looking like she wanted to gag. "Well, actually, it was Ward who first contacted me."

" _What_?"  


* * *

 

 

Finding his Patriot suit hanging up in it's usual spot (and cleaned, too - he wondered who did that), Jeffrey dressed and headed down to the rec area, searching for Grant.

When he stepped into the room off of the stairs, though, the agents standing there immediately quieted and stared at him, wide eyed.

"Where is Ward?" He asked gruffly, wanting answers immediately. No one answered him, and he narrowed his eyes. " _Where is Ward_?"

One of them pointed toward the hall, his extended hand noticeably shaking.

"The - the gym. Sir." Another once answered carefully, sounding terrified.

"Thank you," he nodded his head at them before turning and heading toward the gym. He would deal with them later.

Just before entering the workout area, he heard voices and he paused outside the doorway, hanging back so he wouldn't be immediately noticed.

"What do we do, now? With Hydra down, there are twice as many, hell, four times as many Inhumans that need help. And without a Director," Triplett was speaking.

"I'm not sure. But I can't be a leader, Antoine, I'm not - I can't be that person." Grant answered, sounding frustrated, and exhausted.

"Neither can I!" The other man protested, and Grant scoffed.

"These men would follow you anywhere."

"I'd much rather be receiving orders than giving them, Grant. That's a ton of responsibility."

"What if... what if we did it together? At least until we found someone to replace..."

Jeffrey didn't want to hear anymore of this. They were talking as if he were out of the picture, when he wasn't - he was right here. He didn't know how he was here, but he was.

He stepped around the corner and into the room, clearing his throat to get their attention.

He didn't speak; he simply stood there at the front of the room and studied their reactions.

Much like the other agents had, they stared at him like they were looking at a ghost.

"What the _fuck_?" Grant wondered, narrowing his eyes intently as he approached Mace, his body taught and his fingers clinched tightly within his sparring gloves.

Jeff pursed his lips, nodding in agreement to the exclamation.

" _Jeffrey_?" Antoine asked, squinting at him as he approached as well.

Once he was close enough, Grant reached out and pushed at Jeff's shoulder, as if checking to see if he was real.

"We - we _buried_  your _body_." Grant said, still frowning.

"I don't know what happened," Jeff told him, shaking his head slowly. "I was trying to keep you guys safe, and you left the room, and then..." He closed his eyes for a second, frowning deeply and shuddering slightly. "I woke up in my quarters this morning. What happened in between?" He demanded. "You _buried_  me?"

"You were dead!" Grant replied, reaching up to push at him again as if he didn't trust his first 'examination'.

"Stop that." Jeff complained, swatting his hand away.

"You woke up in your room this morning?" Antoine repeated, standing next to Grant now, looking like he was resisting the urge to also reach out and touch Jeff.

"How did you get there?" Grant asked on the heels of the other man's question, and Jeff shrugged and shook his head.

"I don't know. I just feel..." He hesitated as he thought about it. "I feel like I've been asleep for a long time."

"Your funeral was three days ago. You... that building collapsed on you _five_  days ago." Grant looked extremely sorrowful, now. "Hell, Sir, I am so _sorry_. The lab techs must've missed something - I don't know how they could've mistaken that you were dead,"

"I'm not sure that it was a mistake, Grant." Jeff admitted, thinking of the people he'd last seen before this morning. "Where are the others?"

"Who?" Grant frowned, not following for a moment.

"Coulson. Dr. Simmons. Skye." Jeff listed out, careful mentioning Grant's girlfriend. Sure enough the man's frown deepened and he looked saddened again.

"They're gone." He answered simply, and Jeff frowned deeply as well.

"What do you mean, gone?" He demanded quickly, fearing the worst. For a moment, their voices drifted across his memory,

_"No!"_

_"We're not leaving you!"_

"What I mean to say is, they aren't the same... again." Grant gave him a peculiar look. "Skye was acting weird one morning. Like she was shocked to see me, and like... it was like she couldn't stand to look at me." Wanting to move on, he gestured his hands vaguely through the air. "We took down Hydra, and Skye kept talking about this back door, this way out,"

"To what? One of the buildings?" Jeff asked, and then, "You _took down Hydra_?"

"Turns out, Skye is a damn badass Inhuman." Antoine informed him, clearly impressed. Jeff raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"But something weird happened, again. I lost sight of them. All of them. And then when we found them..." Grant furrowed his brow, glancing at his partner for support. Antoine shook his head, not entirely understanding it all himself.

Plus, they weren't sure how to tell him about Jemma Simmons. Better to speak in general terms, for now.

"We found all three of them in a room, along with Agent May, and that Mackenzie guy. It was like they'd been knocked out by something; they were all just asleep, strewn out in the middle of the floor. And whoever knocked them out decided not to finish the job, I guess. Just locked them in there." Antoine explained.

"May as well?" Jeff asked, and both the other men nodded.

"She had a change of heart." Grant answered simply, and Jeff nodded slowly.

"We brought them all back here to get checked up. When they woke up, they couldn't quite remember where they were, or what was going on, or who we were." Antoine still looked perplexed.

"Well, Skye remembered me. She was back to 'normal', I guess. Sir...." Grant hesitated for a long moment. "What if Dr. Simmons was right, in some way? That they weren't from here?"

"I refuse to believe that we are - " Jeff started immediately, and Grant hurriedly continued,

"I don't mean that we aren't real; obviously, I mean, come on." He scoffed. "But what about... I mean, we've got people with powers and aliens from other planets and gods - what if they're from like, some parallel universe or something?"

"You been catching up on your reading, Agent Ward?" Jeff wondered with some surprise, and Grant rolled his eyes while Antoine grinned.

"I was just trying to figure out what was going on. And it... some of it makes sense. That teacher, for instance - he and Skye are complete strangers now. I mean, they don't know one another at all! Other than after I reintroduced them, anyway." Grant lifted his eyebrows and shrugged. "It definitely wasn't like that, before. Skye definitely knew him, and I think he knew her."

"So, if we go by this theory, then they've gone back to their home?" Jeff asked, his voice sounding a little softer than he'd intended.

"They're okay. You save 'em, Jeff. Hell, you saved all of us." Antoine promised.

Grant was frowning again (he seemed to be doing that even more than usual), in a particular way toward Jeff.

"What?" Jeff asked him.

"They were quite affected by your death, Sir." Grant told him slowly, as if he were suspicious about something. "They didn't want to leave you behind."

"I think they would've made good agents," Jeff admitted with disappointment, wondering distractedly if he would be able to find them again and possibly recruit them. Would the Coulson, and Simmons, and Skye of this world be the same, though? He didn't know.

"I think they were talking about more than just that building at Hydra, Sir." Grant said, and Jeff looked at him sharply. "I think they were talking about not leaving you _here_."  


* * *

**  
**

 

"He noticed a difference when we all left," Daisy explained to Jemma. "I have no idea what happened to those... versions of ourselves; I assume the computer programmed version immediately took over once we removed our own minds from it."

"So I went back to being..." Jemma trailed off, and shuddered, no doubt remembering having to dig herself out of that mass grave. Daisy put a comforting hand on her shoulder for a moment.

"He asked... that Skye, to dig through the Hydra network they now had access to. Pore through Madame Hydra's files, find any 'back doors'. Apparently, she found something." Daisy pursed her lips, and Jemma smirked a little.

"Well, she _is_  a version of you. Sort of." Jemma pointed out.

"I'd already closed it off so no one could... 'mentally pass through'. But..." Daisy shook her head. "Something had kept me from shutting the door entirely. I wanted, just in case, I wanted communication to be possible."

"Did you suspect that Mace had survived, even then?" Jemma wondered, and Daisy shook her head slowly.

"I think it had more to do with my selfishness about the possibility of having Trip around again, then anything else." She admitted, and Jemma smiled softly. "And then when the Koenig's introduced their LMD plan for him..."

"None of us could have passed up that opportunity, Daisy. We all agreed to it, remember. And Agent - Director - Coulson signed off on it."

"Coulson is..." Daisy gave her friend a serious look. "Coulson is messed up." Daisy told her, and Jemma furrowed her brow and pursed her lips.

"Is he having a problem regaining his memories?" Jemma asked. "I've been keeping an eye, and we all seem to have recovered rather remarkably... Even Agent May,"

"It doesn't have to do with that. I think he's depressed. No," Daisy shook her head, then. "That's a symptom. I think he's heart-broken."

Jemma gave her a long, musing look.

"Did he have a family in there?" Jemma asked.

"No - well, he did mention an ex-wife, but, no...." Daisy chewed on her lip for a second. "He had someone _here_ , I think. Someone who isn't here anymore."

Jemma blinked, surprised.

"Oh." She eventually said.

Daisy nodded in understanding - she hadn't noticed it either. But ever since the funeral, Coulson hasn't recovered from the loss in the same way that the rest of them had. Plus, some of the things he'd said to Daisy in the office...

"You want to bring Mace back, as well as Trip? How are we going to manage that? And how do we know that this is 'our' Mace, and not some computer reboot of him or something?"

"Well..." Daisy hesitated, and then let out a long breath. "Someone is going to have to go back in. And make sure."

"No." Jemma immediately denied her, knowing she was thinking of doing it herself. "There is no way I am willingly sending you back into that hell,"

"We know the way in and out works, Jemma. Aida is dead, Madame Hydra is dead, Hydra itself has fallen - it's no more dangerous for me there now than here in this world." Daisy argued.

" _Ward_  is there," Jemma reminded her, as if she needed the reminding, and Daisy scowled.

"Obviously that's not ideal, but... I can handle him. Should he try anything - I'll just Quake his ass. He's not Hive, there, after all." Daisy spoke confidently, though Jemma noticed the mildly nervous swallow at the mention of the evil alien creature.

"Anyway... he seems to care about Mace, in some way. And he seems to think we're all from a sort of parallel world, and he thinks Mace is one of us. He wants to help."

"And what if Mace leaving the Framework then kills 'their' Mace? Like it did to me? Will Ward seek us out in revenge?" Jemma pointed out, and Daisy sighed heavily.

"That's something I'm hoping to figure out when I get there. Or, end all be all, it's a risk I'll have to take. I go in, I make sure Mace is ours, I get him, and at the same time you and the Koenig's can work on transferring Trip. Hopefully we can finish it all at relatively the same time, and close up the back door... completely."

"I don't like the idea of sending you in there alone." Jemma informed her, folding her arms across her chest.

"Jemma, no one else can come with me. You're needed here, and I don't want... I don't want anyone outside of you or the Koenig's knowing about this, yet."

"The Director needs to know! What is he going to do when you disappear for who knows how long? Time passes differently here than in the Framework, remember!" Jemma told her.

"He, especially, _can't_  know." Daisy ordered her, darkly serious. "We can't get his hopes up and then this all ends up a failure. I can't bear to do that to him."

"Daisy..."

"Just trust me, Jemma. Okay? I'll go to Pieta, plug myself in while under the watch of the Koenig's. You just make everyone here believe I'm taking some personal time, or something. I'll tell the Koenig's to work on an LMD for Jeff, just like what they're doing for Trip... it shouldn't take them nearly as long, since Jeff's blueprints are already in the system. All they should need to do is make some tweaks so he doesn't turn out batshit crazy like Aida made the first one..."

"Daisy, what happens if it _is_  our Jeffrey? He had a very public funeral here. We can't just start parading around The Patriot again."

"I'll figure it out." Daisy replied determinedly, and Jemma knew that she couldn't persuade her friend out of this.

And if Jemma were honest, she was more than ecstatic about this possibility. Sure, she may not have known Jeffrey Mace that well - not until his brief 'interrogation' within The Framework - but his death had been a harsh blow, especially with the fact that it had happened inside that fake world. Especially that suddenly she _did_  want to know him, to be friends with him, to hear all about how he grew up in Brooklyn idolizing his favorite superhero. She wanted to know what his father was like, if Mace himself had ever picked up any of his plumbing skills. She wanted to know if, in this world, he'd ever gotten close to marriage, or if he had a girlfriend - or boyfriend.

"Do you think he and Coulson were, _together_?" Jemma whispered very quietly, like she had forgotten that they were still alone. "When did this happen? How did no one notice that?"

"They are both very private people," Daisy shrugged.

"I suppose that makes sense." Jemma said suddenly, and Daisy raised her eyebrow at her. "Just something that happened in The Framework," Jemma waved her hand in the air. "I'm not sure that Agent Coulson - Director - would be comfortable with me sharing it."

"Oh, now I _have_  to know," Daisy prodded, and Jemma smiled a little.

"Coulson was fanboying a little bit over The Patriot." Jemma admitted, and both of Daisy's eyebrows lifted up. "He was fanboying a lot. I was rather embarrassed _for_  him."

"How did Mace react?" Daisy wondered interestedly, and Jemma snorted quietly.

"He was embarrassed as well, but I think he liked it."

"Do you think he remembered who Coulson was?" Daisy wondered, and Jemma's amusement wavered again, and she eventually shook her head.

"No, I don't think he did." She said quietly, and Daisy nodded slowly, thinking.

"That's what Coulson believes, too." She told her friend. "He's pretty torn up about it."

"Like after Price?" Jemma asked worriedly, and Daisy gave her a sad look.

"It's worse, I think. He doesn't seem angry or vengeful - and anyway, the people he would take revenge on are already dead. But he won't take time off to heal, to mourn. I keep finding him asleep in his office, and he never looks well-rested."

"He seems to still be making sound decisions, Director-wise." Jemma pointed out, and Daisy nodded.

"I'm not worried about the Director of SHIELD, Jemma. I'm worried about Phil."

Jemma nodded, too, and she squeezed her friend's arm companionably.

"I'll help as much as I can, Daisy." She promised.  


* * *

 

 

The base was slowly but surely returning to its former glory, mostly because of Mack, in Coulson's opinion. The man was a Godsend; taking up the reigns in that area and assuring Coulson not to worry too much.

Talbot wanted to talk with Coulson almost everyday, annoyingly - he believed that they still needed an Inhuman as the face of SHIELD. And, in his words,

"Once again, your poster-girl is in the wind."

She wasn't in the wind, she was taking personal time, but Coulson was tired of arguing that point with the man.

Coulson, himself, hadn't even been aware of it until he found the email from her buried in his inbox, in between messages from various news companies around the world demanding exclusives on "Jeffrey Mace: Inhuman Martyr, or Government Puppet?"

He'd asked Jemma about Daisy's whereabouts, but the woman had deflected and then informed Coulson that he was due for a physical - which of course got him out of the room pretty quickly. It wasn't that he minded physicals, so much, and with Jemma they could sometimes be fun, but he knew very well that he wasn't in the best of mental health right now, and that topic would inevitably come up.

He was already frustrated enough with himself that he'd let Daisy know as much as he did. No one was supposed to know.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and pictured Jeff's face grimacing under the weight of the building, and then he opened his eyes again and frowned at himself. He needed to pull it together. There were things that needed done. Agents that needed burying, families that needed notifying.

"Sir?" One of the younger agents poked his head in the doorway, looking extremely hesitant.

He really needed to pull it together. He was getting tired of everyone walking on eggshells around him.

"Yes?"

"This was sent from Talbot's office. They framed Director Mace's flag... Do you want me to hang it,"

"I'll take it." Coulson interrupted. He didn't think he'd be able to handle seeing the triangle of fabric in the middle of the hall, or lounge, or some other public location. "I'll hang it in here, I think."

He glanced over to the empty space on the wall nearby his axe. The triangle frame would fit there fine.

Once he was alone again, he held the frame in his hands for a long moment. The flag had been perfectly folded at the funeral, of course. And because of the circumstances and Mace's lack of family present, they had presented it to Daisy. Even if she wasn't quite the face of SHIELD (yet), she was the primary face of the Inhumans. The fact that Mace wasn't actually Inhuman had never been revealed. Coulson had made sure to redact the information at the highest level, even moreso than it had been previously.

Coulson had had to stand at a distance, beneath some trees, sunglasses on even in the grey, misty weather. There had been too many reporters, and he had to be careful about keeping out of photographs.

It took a while for everyone to leave, but once they had, he'd stood at the grave for a long time; long enough that his clothes were soaked through and his feet ached.

Rousing from his memory, Coulson pulled a small box of nails and a hammer from the lower drawer of his desk, standing up and moving toward the wall to hang the flag.

Stepping back to check that it was level, Coulson promised that he would do better. There were people - human and Inhuman alike - that were depending on him. He _had_  to do better.  


* * *

 

 

"What if I'm not the person you think I am?" Jeffrey hesitated, watching as the Koenig's flitted around him, checking vitals and such. "What if this doesn't work? What if I we all find out that I'm just... me, and not this guy you think I am?"

"Mace, if you have even one doubt about that place, about if you belong there - then please, give this world a chance. Trust me." Daisy asked him.

"Well why can't I remember you?" He challenged, frustrated that there was no clear 'right' or 'wrong', here. He had made a decision and he had no idea whether or not it was the best choice. "Any of you, why do you all seem to have remembered one another but I didn't?"

"Don't tell me that you felt _nothing_  when you first saw Coulson." Daisy told him, and he blinked at her.

Sam perked up in interest and opened his mouth to say something, but Billy smacked the back of his head warningly. He closed his mouth again and went back to work.

"I," Mace started, wondering how she knew about that. It hadn't been anything significant, he had thought, just this weird nagging in the back of his head like maybe they'd passed one another on the street before or something.

(But, when he'd told Coulson to run, and Coulson had argued, there was something then, too.)

"I don't remember him, either." Jeff eventually told her, though he wasn't one hundred percent confident about that.

"Please, Jeff." Daisy implored him. "We need you. SHIELD needs you."

"I've confirmed that there is a living version of you still within that world, Director Mace." L.T. spoke up, entering the room with a tablet in her hands. "So they aren't without you, there."

Somehow, that didn't necessarily immediately make him feel better.

"What does that mean? That I belong here?" He asked them, and gave Daisy a wide-eyed, concerned look. "Why don't I feel any different? Why haven't I remembered anything, yet?"

"That world was built specifically so that we wouldn't really feel any different, or at least, notice." Daisy told him. "Just... give it some time, alright? Take it slow. I'm sure the block will fade away soon enough - especially now that you're back here." She smiled a little, unable to hide her hopeful expression.

"But I'm not _me_ , anymore, right? Not completely," Jeff looked down at his hand, turning it front and back. It looked normal enough.

"Your mind is entirely your own, I assure you," L.T. promised him, standing in front of the bed he was sitting on the edge of. "It's only your body that's different."

"Because you buried my real one." Jeff finished dryly, glancing toward Daisy. Her eyes looked pained, and apologetic.

"Unfortunately, that also means you're gonna have to stay in the shadows, for a while. Probably not even leave the base, not for a few weeks anyway." Daisy added, and Jeff sighed heavily and closed his eyes for a moment.

"At least I don't have to deal with Hydra, here," He grumbled, and all three Koenig's perked up and looked at him in excitement. He opened his eyes, not noticing them, but realizing what he'd said. "The Triskelion is gone." He commented, tilting his head sideways as if he was just processing this information.

"Remarkable," Billy commented, snatching the tablet from his sister's hands and tapping away at it, "He's already recalling some things. Perhaps his recovery will be no different than anyone else's."

"How long did it take you all to completely recover?" Jeff asked Daisy, and she shrugged one shoulder.

"It varied, but no longer than a week, for the worst of us." She didn't name any names, yet.

"Jeffrey! We made it!" Trip sat up in his own bed, spying his old friend and grinning from ear to ear.

Jeff blinked at him, a little on edge as he watched one of the Koenig's unplug a thick cord from the back of Trip's neck. Jeff touched the back of his own neck, but it was smooth.

"We did." Jeff managed to smile at his friend, watching how the skin smoothed over the plug to eventually hide it completely.

Trip looked just as human as any of them did - and Jeff _felt_  just as human... though he knew that he wasn't.

"Am I," Jeff started, worried, holding both his hands out further and making fists.

"You're stronger than any human, but it's not because you're Inhuman..." Daisy told him carefully, and he nodded slowly, accepting, dropping his hands back down to the bed.

"I don't have the gene." He agreed, and then frowned deeply. "How the hell had I accepted that in the other world? The gene is not something you can just be given - you have to be born with it!"

"Aida tricked all of us into believing a lot of false things." Daisy said diplomatically.

"Diagnostics are clear for both of you," Billy announced to Trip and Jeff. "You're good to go!"

"Go where?" Jeff asked, and Sam stepped closer as the taller man slid off of the bed and onto his feet.

"Back to HQ! I'm more or less a permanent fixture there, so, I'll be keeping an eye on you guys and sending Billy and L.T. updates. So you know, if anything weird happens, I'll be there."

"And Sam," Daisy started, and he nodded and gestured his hand through the air, cutting her off.

"I know, I know, not a word to anyone else about Mace. Though," He muttered the last part, "I don't see how you're gonna manage to keep him a secret."

"I'll figure it out," Daisy told them easily, not sounding a bit worried.

Jeff, on the other hand, was extremely worried. While he was starting to remember bits and pieces, he felt that the most important parts weren't coming to him yet - what and where was HQ? How well did he actually know Daisy? Or Simmons, or hell, Coulson? Had he even worked with these Koenig's before?

And if/when he remembered all of this, would he forget his best friend?

As if he knew what he was thinking about, Trip clasped his hand on his shoulder and grinned as he held out a shirt for him to put on.

"Don't worry, dude. I've got your back." They shared a smile and then finished dressing, and then Daisy led them out of the room.  


* * *

 

 

"Sam was right, though," Daisy said under her breath, leading Jeff by the arm quickly toward her quarters. "I won't be able to keep your presence a secret around her for very long. I've got to tell Coulson, first, but then we'll need to make an announcement to everyone else. Because they'll see you - but they won't be allowed to speak of your existence."

Jeff nodded silently, his shoulders slumped and head ducked low; he was keeping an eye on her feet and trusting the touch of her hand that he wouldn't run into anything or anyone. She'd pulled a ballcap low on his head and had him put on a pair of bulky sweatpants, assuring him that no one around here had ever seen him in anything other than his Patriot suit or his business suits. She figured his scruffy face probably helped, too - and damn, how the hell had the Koenig's managed to simulate _hair growth_?

She rather unapologetically pushed him into her room and pulled the door shut behind them.

"I think we're alright, for now," She breathed, moving toward her computer. "But I need to edit the security feed. I just hope...."

Her door opened suddenly, then, and Jeff froze. It was Simmons, and she shut the door behind her just as quickly.

"It's you," She breathed, approaching Jeff as he just watched her with mild concern. Realizing very quickly who it was, Daisy focused once more on editing the cameras.

"Yeah, I guess so." Jeff replied lamely, feeling awkward in this room and in these clothes.

Daisy glanced up to see Jemma hug him fiercely, and he just stood there for a second, no doubt surprised by the action. Then he carefully put his arms around her shoulders as well in a sort of half-hearted embrace.

"You still don't remember me," Jemma realized, pulling away from him quickly, her intention not to make him uncomfortable.

"I... a little bit." Jeff admitted. "It's coming back to me, slowly." Jemma nodded easily, understanding.

"That's expected." She then smiled up at him. "Sir, it _is_  good to see you," She told him earnestly, and he smiled back at her, feeling welcomed even as awkward as all this was. "Trip is here, too?" Jemma asked Daisy, stepping around Jeff to approach the desk.

Daisy nodded, double-checking her work and making sure her video cuts were smooth enough that they wouldn't draw attention.

"He is, Sam is taking him to the Director's office now. _He_  didn't have to be snuck in," Daisy pointed out wryly, grinning a little toward Jeff, who pulled his hat off of his head and almost pouted.

"There he is." Jemma said, sounding a little surprised as she looked at him, and he frowned at her. "Oh, nope, back to Framework Mace."

"Come on." He complained, running his hand back and forth through his hair messily. "I'm just _me_."

"It's alright." Daisy stepped close and grasped his arm comfortingly. "Do you mind hanging in here for a bit? I'll grab you a change of clothes, and I'll..." She took a deep and steadying breath in. "I'll tell Coulson that you're here."

"Why don't I just come with you?" He pointed out, and Jemma and Daisy both shook their heads quickly.

"No no no, probably not a good idea. I need to break this to him slowly." Daisy said, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Are you telling me he doesn't even know that I'm alive?"

"I didn't want to get his hopes up, and then this whole transfer process thing not work out." Daisy defended her actions. "You may not remember that man right now, Jeffrey Mace, but it would've fucking broken him completely, I think, had that happened. I wasn't going to risk it."

"Phil Coulson..." Jeff said slowly, pursing his lips as he racked his brain. "He's an agent of SHIELD," he remembered. He then shrugged. "What makes him so special, though?"

"I don't know." Daisy informed him seriously. "That's something you're going to have to figure out, because neither of you told any of us about it."

"About _what_?" Jeff pressed, but Daisy didn't answer as she walked toward the door.

"Jemma, we may need you to work with Sam and set up scheduled scans or whatever of Trip and Jeff."

"Right. I'll see you later, Jeffrey," Jemma offered him a smile, and patted his arm. "It will get easier, I promise."

Daisy hesitated in the doorway once Jemma walked out, glancing back at Jeff before she closed him inside the room.

"I don't have to lock you in here, do I?" She asked him warningly, and he looked affronted.

"I'll stay put." He promised her, sitting on the end of her bed, and she smiled softly.

"I'll be back as soon as possible."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I desperately tried to get this fic out before episode 4x19, even during the busiest of weeks... I didn't quite make my self-imposed deadline, so instead, I'm posting it in two parts. Part II to come very soon.


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that this one took longer than planned to finish... my Muse has been all over the place, lately. *sheepishly slinks back into the corner*

He'd been hiding in Daisy's room for a week; only venturing out during the earliest hours of the morning, when it was likely he wouldn't run into someone. He and Daisy spent those hours exploring the base, re-familiarizing him with it, and Daisy kept him updated on everything that was going on during the day hours.

He slept partially during the day - he wasn't sure that he needed it, physically, but his brain still needed rest anyway; this was all rather overwhelming and exhausting. Daisy let him use her computer to help him figure out what was real for this world, versus what had happened within the Framework.

Learning about the real Grant Ward, for instance, was a shock. And at first difficult to swallow, but then he was soon enough remembering what he'd already known pre-Framework, and _then_  he was questioning the Grant that he'd gotten to know within the Framework.

Daisy had told him the real story about Trip back when they were both still in the Framework, and she'd been persuading him to come with her back to this world. Reading about him here, Jeff realized that he'd previously barely known anything about the agent, or his death.

But he still considered him his best friend. Real or not, his fondness for Antoine wouldn't just go away with the snap of one's fingers.

(And yet, trying to find his connection to these people here and now seemed like he was trying to dredge the deepest parts of an ocean. Why was it that what should have been the easiest things were being the most difficult?)

Two mornings ago, Daisy informed him that she wanted to start meeting him in the gym, and train with him. He was neither a 'juiced up' human nor an Inhuman anymore, and she thought it'd be a good idea for him to get comfortable with his new strength and reflexes.

Apparently, this morning, that involved three cartons of eggs, and Daisy smirking at him as he warily approached her.

"Breakfast?" He asked carefully, knowing better, and she shook her head at him.

"I want you to catch an egg without breaking it." She told him, reaching down to open the top carton and lift an egg out. Jeff raised his eyebrow at her.

"Seriously?"

She looked at the egg for a moment, before tossing it toward him without warning. Only partially surprised by her move, Jeff still crumpled the shell between his fingers when he managed to grab at the airborne egg, yolk sliming across his knuckles. He grimaced at it, and then at her.

"You didn't even hardboil them?" He complained, and her smirk widened.

"That should give you more incentive to catch them correctly."

"Let's see _you_  catch one correctly," Jeff challenged, stepping forward and bending down to snatch another egg from the carton. He tried to hold it as lightly as possible and tossed it under-handed at her.

Laughing, she cupped her palms together to form a sort of basket and followed the egg back, catching it in a way that diffused the momentum and kept it in one piece. She raised her eyebrow pointedly at him and he grumbled under his breath, begrudgingly mirroring her actions when she tossed the egg back at him.

It hit him squarely in the chest, breaking and spilling runny yolk down the front of his shirt.

"Come on!" He complained, and Daisy snorted.

"Oops." She commented, clearly not bothered at all.

They did that for a while; Daisy breaking some eggs, Jeff breaking more. At least she'd thought to lay some towels down on the mats so they would only need to be thrown in the wash after all this. Jeff's t-shirt and shorts would have to go in with them, at this rate. He was sure that Daisy was throwing some of them purposefully trying to hit him.

"There we go," Daisy nodded, as more and more time and tosses went by between eggs breaking. "There's that soft hand!" Somehow, he found himself smiling with pride at that.

"Are we just gonna throw eggs at each other all morning, or what?" Jeff teasingly complained; the two of them were actually having a pretty good time, as ridiculous as he felt.

"I think we can hit the bags, now. I feel less worried that you're gonna bust through them all." Daisy mused, nodding her head at him and picking up the remaining cartons of unbroken eggs, moving them off to the side of the room. "We need to work on you managing your strength. How much of it you use, and when."

"I can _feel_  what I'm doing, you know." Jeff pointed out to her. "Even if most of my body is robotic or whatever, it's not like I can't tell what I'm doing."

"I've had plenty of indication that you've got a hell of a lot more strength than you're used to, even as The Patriot." Daisy told him gently. "I just want to make sure that you're aware of that before you start punching the expensive things."

Jeff smiled a bit apologetically, understanding, as he picked up one of the rolls of hand wrap that Daisy had set atop a pile of other boxing paraphernalia. He started to pull an end unrolled, and looked at his left hand, and then hesitated.

"Uh," He glanced up at her sheepishly. "I swear I've done this before. But..."

"It's fine," Daisy said quickly, soothingly, stepping closer and taking the wrap from him. "Your memory is still coming back to you."

She knew how much it frustrated him when things like this happened, and she was always so wonderfully understanding. Jeff found that he was quite fond of her, admired her even, and he wondered if that had been the case before the Framework. (He felt that it was.)

With one hand she straightened his wrist out, and then began wrapping the fabric around his thumb and the back of his hand. Rather quickly and efficiently she wrapped up both of his hands, her own fingers guiding his without any awkwardness or hesitation.

_"Like this, see?" Coulson turned Jeff's hand over so that his knuckles were facing upward. "You pull it down between your fingers, and then over the back... see how it makes an 'x'? You'll want to do that between each finger. Keeps your knuckles where they're supposed to be,"_

_Coulson's touch was light and familiar, his fingers ghosting over Jeff's skin probably more than was necessary. Jeff was definitely standing closer than was necessary - his head tilted to put his face that much closer to Coulson's. Coulson was focused on the wraps, but he was smiling, and his fingers started trailing much more slowly across Jeff's fingers, hand, and wrist. Jeff's skin tingled, and his smile slowly widened._

"You okay? Is it too tight?" Daisy asked, jarring Jeff from his memory. He realized, embarrassingly, that he'd just shivered, and Daisy had noticed.

"It's fine," Jeff told her, willing away whatever the hell that was. He couldn't argue that it wasn't real - he could still feel the ghost of Coulson's touch, as real as how Daisy was touching him now.

Except Coulson's had definitely had a different nature to it. It hadn't exactly been _innocent_.

"Alright." She replied easily, clearly thinking that he was hiding something from her. She didn't push, though; at least not with that. She _did_  push him physically toward one of the heavy weights that was hanging from a ceiling beam. "Try not to bust it open, alright?" She advised him teasingly, and he rolled his eyes at her as he shook his shoulders out and punched the air a few times.

He very quickly fell back into old habits - which both surprised him and put him at ease. He _had_  done this before. Daisy stood back and watched him for a moment, her expression now one of surprise as she judged his form.

"When it comes to boxing, I only really know the basics, and it looks like you're more than comfortable with this." She commented. "Did you box in the Framework?" She wondered curiously, and he paused for a moment, shaking his head, wiping the back of his hand against the sweat on his brow.

"Before," He breathed out, turning back toward the bag. She looked even more surprised at that, for some reason.

"Really? Huh," She mused, and a minute or two later, she said, "Well, AC, why don't you take over?" Jeff stopped immediately, turning to see who she was talking to. "You know more about boxing than I do, anyway."

Coulson was leaning against the doorframe leading out into the hall, watching them. Jeff wondered how long he'd been there.

Coulson looked unsure of himself, though he did step further into the room and approach them. He was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, as if he'd planned on working out at this hour as well.

"Can't sleep?" Jeff wondered, and then gritted his teeth slightly. The two of them haven't spoken directly since the Framework. He couldn't be acting like small talk was normal between them, but he was so unsure about what to do. He had hoped that seeing Coulson face-to-face again, on this side of the Framework, would kick-start his memories. That didn't seem to be the case.

Coulson's gaze jerked toward him as if he was surprised by the sound of Jeff's voice.

"No." He eventually answered, like he'd been considering whether or not to reply to Jeff.

"I've gotta go have a chat with May before we begin our Tai Chi this morning." Daisy told them brightly, lifting her chin toward Coulson as she said, "Why don't you show him some of your moves?"

She grinned at Jeff before turning and heading out, leaving the two of them and quite a heavy silence in the room.

_"Alright, show me your moves." Jeff challenged, toothily grinning as he bounced on his toes across from Coulson, curling his fingers in a 'come on' gesture._

_"You can't handle my moves," Coulson returned, his expression mirroring Jeff's as he got into sparring position._

_"Hmm," Jeff hummed noncommittally as a warm fondness for the other man filled his chest._

"You okay?" Coulson asked, pulling Jeff back into the present. Coulson's brow was lightly furrowed with concern, and Jeff nodded somewhat distractedly as he scratched his chest.

"I've been at this for a bit. Mind if I take a break and you have a turn?" Jeff requested, resting his palm against the heavy bag. Coulson blinked, and nodded, again as if he wasn't sure if he'd wanted to reply at all.

Jeff couldn't even imagine what was going through Coulson's head, right now.

"It's weird, huh?" Jeff started gently, as he stepped around to the other side of the bag and squared his feet, ready to brace it for Coulson's hits. "I'm a dead man walking." He said it almost apologetically. He didn't want to make Coulson's life difficult.

Coulson laughed, of all things; a weird short sound, devoid of actual humour. It unsettled Jeff a little.

"I'm quite familiar with that, I assure you." Coulson replied dryly, and Jeff blinked at him, furrowing his brow a little. Coulson heaved a sigh as he wrapped up his own hands and wrists. Jeff's eyes were drawn to the movement, for a moment, but then Coulson's next words brought his gaze back up, "Of course. You don't remember that... you didn't know until I told you when we..." Coulson trailed off, and Jeff was desperately curious for him to finish his sentence.

He didn't, though, and his expression closed off startlingly quickly. Without another word, he flexed his fingers to check his wraps, and then stepped up to the bag. He hesitated for a second, tilting his head slightly as he frowned at Jeff's tee.

"What is on your shirt?" He asked, sounding like he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer. Jeff grimaced as he looked down, picking at the uncomfortable fabric, peeling it away from his chest for a moment.

"Egg." He answered, and Coulson raised an eyebrow at him. Jeff shook his head, and peeled his shirt off, balling it up and trying to find a clean section to wipe off his chest with. The drying egg yolk mixed with his sweat did not feel all that great, and it would probably start to stink pretty soon, as well. "Daisy's idea of training, this morning," he continued to explain, his eyes focused downward as he attempted to clean himself off.

"Oh." Coulson's voice sounded weird; clipped and breathy. When Jeff glanced up at him, Coulson's gaze lifted from his chest to his eyes, and a half-second later he focused completely onto the bag, lifting his fists up again. "Ready?" Coulson asked, sounding a little more normal, and Jeff nodded silently, tossing his shirt off to the side.

Coulson worked the bag for a little while, Jeff quietly observing his form and trying to take any tips from him that he could. He had a perpetual feeling that this was incredibly familiar, what the two of them were doing right now, but he couldn't directly place his finger on a memory of it. He figured, since Daisy continually assured him that his memories were still coming back bit by bit, that he and Coulson had in fact done this before... it's just that Coulson wasn't acting very familiar with him right now.

Maybe he should say something.

"Do you remember anything from the Framework?" Jeff asked, and then immediately mentally kicked himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Out of all the topics to bring up....

Coulson's next punch faltered slightly, and he paused, resting for a moment. Sweat dripped down his temple and Jeff followed it with his eyes, and then followed the nervous movement of Coulson's tongue against his bottom lip.

"Yes." Coulson answered simply, not meeting Jeff's eyes. He shifted the velcro of the sparring gloves as if they had come loose. "I remember everything."

He didn't sound happy about that, and Jeff grimaced. But he needed to know...

"How long did it take you to remember... to remember this world? Real life?"

Coulson looked directly at him now, sad and reserved and mildly accusatory.

"I remembered almost immediately." Coulson told him, his tone hardening slightly. Jeff dropped his head, looking down at his feet, wishing that his presence didn't make Coulson have that expression on his face.

A moment of silence passed between them, during which Coulson seemed to relax a little.

"Jeff," Coulson called his attention again, his tone softer now. "I'm sorry," he said when Jeff looked at him. "I don't blame you. None of this is your fault." Coulson sighed, and began to peel off his gloves. "I can't- I don't think I can do this right now. Just- give me a little more time, alright? And maybe if you remember a little more,"

"Remember _what_?" Jeff pressed, getting a little annoyed with the runaround Daisy and Coulson seemed to be giving him. Coulson shook his head, though, and looked like he desperately wanted to leave the room now.

"I can't tell you that," Coulson insisted, sounding like he was reminding himself of it as well, "I can't make you...." He changed tactics a little, "I don't want you to feel obligated because of something... something you might not even feel anymore."

Jeff stood there and watched silently as Coulson dropped his gloves to the ground, turned, and left the room - and left Jeff feeling bereft.  


* * *

 

A few days after their 'egg training day', Daisy was drinking her morning cup of coffee when Jeff stepped into her office, unceremoniously announcing,

"I think I want to have sex with Phil."

Her mouthful of coffee sprayed out across her desk at his serious tone, and she looked at him like he'd grown another head.

" _Excuse_  me?" Daisy spluttered, wiping her fingers against her lips as she hunted through her drawers for spare takeout napkins.

"I either want to, or I already have." Jeff furrowed his brow. "Though I suppose those two things are not mutually exclusive," He added thoughtfully, and Daisy just blinked at him for a moment.

"What, have you..." She looked very hesitant about what she would say next. "Are you remembering some things?"

"I don't know!" Jeff shrugged, flustered about that. "I could be. But I could also just be imagining things."

"Are you telling me you're daydreaming about Phil Coulson?" Daisy narrowed her eyes slightly, as she distractedly wiped up the mess from her desk.

"Have he and I had sex before?" Jeff implored, stepping closer to her desk, and she gave him a wild look.

"How the hell would I know that?!"

"I don't know!" Jeff exclaimed, both of them sounding a little more frantic than was necessary. He started pacing, and she was picking up on his energy.

"Alright dude, take a deep breath," Daisy said calmly, "relax, we'll figure this out."

"I _can't_  relax. That's the whole damn point," Jeff glared at the floor where he was walking back and forth. "I feel like I'm thinking about it every five minutes. Every little thing makes me imagine, remember - who the hell knows. And, _God_ , whenever I actually _see him_ face to face? It's all I can do not to," Jeff made a vague gesture through he air, and Daisy raised her eyebrows at him. "If this is stuff from my memories, pre-Framework, then I don't know how the hell I had gotten any work done!"

Daisy opened her mouth, then decided against it, and pressed her lips closed. She shrugged half-heartedly at him, and he groaned loudly and dropped into the seat across from her, pressing his hands against his face for a moment.

"I'm half robot! How the hell is this even possible?!" He complained through his fingers, and Daisy swallowed down her noise of surprise.

"You mean, are you...?" She didn't finish her question, and looked at him sideways. He dropped his hands and gave her a dry look. "Right _now_?" She couldn't help but ask.

"He told me 'good morning' in the hallway," Jeff whined, pointing toward the doorway as if the culprit was standing right there. (Thankfully, he wasn't.)

"He told you 'good morning' and you just," She made a noise between her teeth in place of a word, and Jeff's face turned red as he pouted down and away from her gaze.

"It was mostly what I thought of after he said it, not necessarily just the fact that he'd said it," Jeff admitted, half-under his breath, and Daisy's eyebrows stayed where they were high on her forehead, as she glanced to side, having no idea what to say to him. Jeff didn't lift his gaze toward her so he didn't see her expression, but he continued talking, "Phil saying good morning to me in bed, with that little smirk on his lips, looking up at me as he scooted down toward the end of the bed and curled his fingers - "

"Woah, dude!" Daisy interrupted quickly and loudly, wide-eyed. Jeff opened his eyes, only just realizing that they'd slid shut.

"Sorry." He apologized, wincing that he'd gotten carried away in what he was pretty sure was memory.

"I'm not...sure...what to tell you, Jeff," Daisy told him carefully, apologetically, as she balled up her napkins and tossed them into the trash bin. "Why don't you take it slow?" She suggested thoughtfully. "Get to know him. Spend time with him. Maybe your memories will straighten themselves out the more time you spend with him."

"Or maybe I'll freak the fuck out of him." Jeff retorted with frustration, and Daisy lifted a single eyebrow, giving him a look.

"Trust me, Jeffrey?" She asked of him. "Maybe _he_  is scared of freaking _you_  out."

Jeff relaxed slowly into his seat, as he considered that.

Daisy gave him a pointed look as she took a careful sip of her coffee.  


* * *

 

She supposed she'd brought this upon herself, being their go-between like she was, the moment she decided to go after Mace and pull him from the Framework. The problem was, neither of the men directly knew that they were both talking to her about the same stuff - and, like today, sometimes within the same 24-hour period.

"I don't know what to do, Daisy." Coulson sighed tiredly, sitting behind his desk and rubbing his hand against his eyes. "He wants to spend all this time with me and I...." He trailed off, and smiled oddly. "It's wonderful and horrible at the same time."

"Because you still love him."

"I never _stopped_  loving him. I _mourned_  him, but here he is, right in front of me. Touchable, even, and yet so, very, untouchable."

"Just because he doesn't remember you, Coulson, doesn't mean that he doesn't love you, too." Daisy told him rather sagely. His expression softened at that, almost into something like hope. "Plus, I'm pretty certain that he also wants to fuck your brains out."

Very slowly, Coulson lifted his eyes up toward her, completely unsure of how to respond to that.

"I'm gonna go, now." She announced, jerking her thumb toward the door before turning around and doing just that. She wanted to get out of their before he decided to reprimand her for her crassness. Or, worse, demand further detail from her comment.

Coulson blinked, and a minute later closed his open mouth.  


* * *

 

"You wanted to see me?" Jeff asked carefully, respectfully, as he poked his head inside of Coulson's office. Coulson turned from where he'd been staring out the window, and nodded, and beckoned Jeff inside the room.

"Come on in," He greeted, and added almost sternly, "and lock the door."

Something... something about his tone made Jeff's heart skip a beat. Nevertheless, he did as requested, and approached Coulson only with a few steps, going no further than the middle of the room. Coulson had faced the window again, his hands leisurely stuffed into the pockets of his trousers.

"A week ago, you asked me if I remembered my life inside the Framework." Coulson took a breath, and continued, "I would like to ask you the same thing."

"Of course I remember _that_ , I don't have a problem remembering _that_." Jeff replied easily, a bit annoyed with himself. "I just can't seem to remember everything that happened beforehand."

"The Koenig's have informed me of something." Coulson said, still looking out the window, his tone still stoic and casual.

"What?" Jeff wondered, taking a step closer. "Do they know something? Is there something wrong with my transfer?"

Coulson took a breath, and half-turned, though didn't quite look directly toward Jeff.

"It seems AIDA has put a block around a certain area of your memory." Coulson informed him, and Jeff blinked in surprise. "You see, you were the only one truly happy in that place. You, and perhaps, Mack. However," Coulson turned fully toward him now, "even Mack knew something wasn't quite right. You... she had perfected you. All she had to do was make you forget the one thing you wanted more than to be a hero."

Jeff's brow furrowed, as his heart seemed to skip a beat again.

"And that's..." Jeff started, then trailed off, too worried that his train of thought was on the wrong path.

Coulson lowered his chin slightly, and blinked at him, and Jeff tilted his head to the side. He took a hesitant step closer to Coulson, and then another, until he stood within touching distance of the man.

"Is that you?" Jeff wondered, and Coulson tilted his head in the opposite direction, giving Jeff a darkly serious look.

"Is it?" He returned, otherwise not moving. He seemed to be holding his breath.

"I wanted a place to belong." Jeff said slowly, and Coulson gave him a small nod, remembering their conversation that now felt like it had been years ago. "AIDA thought that meant I wanted to be a hero, a leader of a team that trusted me and followed me."

"Is that not what you want?" Coulson asked quietly, knowing that it was at least in part, and Jeff shrugged.

"It is, sure, but... that wasn't what gave me a place to belong." Jeff blinked at him again, slowly starting to understand now. "I had already found my place to belong. Even after revealing the truth of my Inhuman status."

Coulson's expression finally broke; finally revealed the timid hopefulness behind the glint in his eyes, and the curve of his mouth.

"What I'm feeling, it's not..." Jeff hesitated, and decided to trudge on, figuring now was as good a time as any. "It's not just me right now, is it? This is some memory stuff, right?"

"That depends," Coulson answered very carefully, "on what it is you're feeling."

Jeff slowly lifted his hand up, hesitating for a moment, before going for it and resting his palm against Coulson's chest. He looked into Coulson's eyes as he felt his chest rise and fall beneath his hand. Coulson's heart seemed to be hammering pretty hard, but it was no harder than Jeff's was.

To prove it, he used his other hand to grab Coulson's wrist and pull his hand from his pocket, resting it against his chest. They stood there in silence for a long beat, mirroring one another. Jeff felt Coulson's fingers curl slightly, pressing firmly into his shirt.

"I feel a heartbeat." Coulson breathed in surprise, flattening his palm against Jeff. Jeff smiled a little hesitantly.

"It's not.... real, exactly." He admitted, and Coulson frowned as if he were being ridiculous. He then did something that surprised Jeff into stillness - He stepped even closer and pressed his ear against Jeff's chest.

Jeff breathed in and opened his mouth, freezing for a long moment.

_He was lounging on the couch in the Director's quarters when Coulson walked in, who smirked down at him and grabbed the blanket that he'd been using._

_"Hey," Jeff started, but Coulson was kicking his shoes off and then climbing onto the couch on top of him, careful not to squish any important bits as he settled his hips between Jeff's knees._

_"I make a better blanket, don't you think?" Coulson teased, and Jeff smiled widely, curling an arm across Coulson's back. Coulson turned his head and settled against Jeff's chest, releasing a long and heavy sigh._

_"Why don't you take a nap? You've been working non-stop for the past forty-eight hours," Jeff suggested gently, and used his other hand to start carefully carding his fingers through Coulson's hair, lightly scratching his nails against the nape of his neck._

_Coulson hummed happily and wriggled a little against Jeff, causing the other man to grunt and squeeze his knees around him warningly. Coulson laughed lightly but settled down, and Jeff could feel the moment he fell asleep._

"It sounds the same." Coulson wondered in amazement, and while Jeff wasn't sure that people's heartbeats actually sounded all that different to the human ear, he didn't argue the man. "How did they do that?" Coulson wondered, looking up at Jeff now.

"There are apparently a lot of things about me that should be impossible," Jeff shrugged, "according to Daisy, anyway."

Coulson seemed to realize how close he still was to Jeff, and he quickly shifted to pull away. Jeff didn't let him, though -

"We used to cuddle on the couch." He blurted, and Coulson raised his eyebrows at him. Jeff blushed, then, and hoped to God that this was a real memory he was about to say out loud. "Because of our work schedules we couldn't spend a lot of time with one another so sometimes all we had was our breaks for rest. So we would rest, together."

"You remember that?" Coulson asked softly, and Jeff nodded a little.

"Some of it."

Jeff slowly rested his hand against the side of Coulson's neck, gentle, his thumb brushing over Coulson's ear. He slid his fingers back, around Coulson's nape, firm but careful.

"This is where I belong." Jeff nodded. "You are where I belong." He may not fully remember it, but he _knew_  it, like an inherent thing. Anything otherwise was wrong.

Coulson's lip twitched, and then he smiled a big, lopsided grin.

Without much more warning than that, Coulson wrapped his arms around Jeff's waist and hugged him tightly, fingers grasping Jeff's shirt as he pressed his face against Jeff's neck.

"I thought I'd lost you." Coulson murmured against Jeff's skin, and Jeff held him even tighter, sliding his other hand around Coulson's back and pulling him close.

This - Phil Coulson pressed against him, his body curling around Jeff's as if he was attempting to fuse them together - this was real, and he knew that without question.  


* * *

 

They weren't able to keep Jeff a secret from Talbot for too long. The General showed up far too often without any warning, and he ended up almost literally running into the old Director in the hallway.

The look on Talbot's face had been priceless, but now Coulson and the team were getting reamed out in Coulson's office. He was pretty certain that in all the years he's known the man, he'd never seen Talbot's face get _quite_  this red.

"Are you telling me that I pulled out all the stops, full military honors, for _a fake funeral_?" Talbot was yelling about the public and the President and the rest of the world, but as Coulson stood there looking dutiful with his hands folded together in front of him, he wasn't really paying the General much attention.

He'd expected this from Talbot, after all, but also, Jeff was currently holding most of Coulson's focus.

Coulson wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, but he was crouched on one knee, digging far into the back on the bottom shelf of one of his cabinets.

The way his jeans hugged the curve of his ass was, well, enticing. And how his dress shirt, tucked in, pulled taught across his back and accentuated his musculature and the dip of his spine.... Coulson licked his lips.

Daydreaming about Jeff was far more interesting than getting fussed at by Talbot, and as Coulson's mind wandered, he drew his bottom lip between his teeth, imagining bending Jeff over his desk.

He was jarred back into reality when Daisy's elbow landed sharply into his ribs.

"Stop it, Phil. You're drooling." She half teased, half warned him. He frowned sideways at her, and jabbed two of his fingers into her side as retaliation.

"So what the hell happened?" Talbot's frustration slipped back into Coulson's awareness. "Someone needs to start talking! Mace! What the hell are you doing?" Talbot sighed heavily, sounding as if he was talking to an unruly child. Jeff glanced over his shoulder and, realizing that everyone was now looking at him, he sheepishly got to his feet.

"Here." He murmured, holding out a silver briefcase in Talbot's direction. Talbot furrowed his brow as he slowly accepted the case, and with another look at Jeff's expression, Coulson suddenly knew what it was. "I don't need this anymore."

Talbot's face changed as he realized what the briefcase was, and he looked a bit out of place, now. He knew that not a single other person in this room agreed with Project Patriot, and he didn't feel as comfortable or 'in charge' now that he stood with the remainder of the serum in his hands.

"I don't know that I ever needed it, actually." Jeff said a little more confidently, glancing momentarily in Coulson's direction. "I just needed to figure out where I belonged."

Coulson sent him a small smile, warmth filling his chest. Jeff returned a gentle smile, his eyes full of gratitude, and Coulson felt Daisy nudge him again.

"Hmm, hot date later?" She murmured under her breath. Coulson elbowed her harder than before, giving her a warning look, and Jeff furrowed his brow in question when he noticed the exchange.

Daisy snorted, pushing at Coulson's arm, and he pushed hers back, and-

"Hey!" Talbot scolded, throwing a paperclip at them that had been in his pocket. "God, keeping your attention is like trying to talk to my kid," He muttered, and both Coulson and Daisy straightened up and folded their hands calmly in front of them again.

Coulson glanced at Jeff, and the other man was looking at him curiously.

"Sir, I can probably explain the whole story better than anyone else, here," Daisy finally said with a sigh, knowing that she couldn't keep giving Talbot the runaround, as amusing as it was.

As she told her story, Jeff casually leaned against the cabinet and folded his arms over his chest. His shirt pulled taught across his shoulders, and the rolled up sleeves revealed muscular forearms that made the tips of Coulson's fingers burn with memory. He used to know what every curve of muscle and firmness of bone felt like. He wondered if any part of Jeff would feel different beneath his touch, and if, should they become intimate again, would it be like the first time all over again...

Looking back toward his face, Coulson saw the corner of Jeff's mouth quirk upward, like he wanted to grin at Coulson but wasn't sure how Coulson would react to it. Coulson returned a small smile, appeasing him, and only partially embarrassed that Jeff had caught him checking him out.

"If you two are done makin' eyes at each other over there, I need to have a chit-chat with Mace. Alone." Talbot grouched, at least mildly more at ease after hearing Daisy's side of things.

Mack coughed uncomfortably at Talbot's (direct hit) joke, and Daisy snorted quietly and moved to elbow Coulson's ribs again. Coulson blocked her deftly as he shifted his stance to move toward the door, but he glanced back toward Jeff once more before he followed the others out of the room.

"It's alright," Jeff assured him gently, sending him a soft smile, and Coulson pursed his lips but left the room as asked.

"Daisy," Coulson called quietly, pulling her to the side as the others meandered their way downstairs. She noticed his somber expression and grew a little more serious than she had been in the office. "I can't thank you enough." He told her, his fingers still gripping her arm. "I know there's still a lot to do, a lot to work through - his memory still isn't one hundred percent - but... just the fact that he's here..."

She smiled softly at him, and mirrored his gesture by grasping his opposite shoulder.

"You don't have to thank me, AC," She promised him, her smile turning into a bit of a smirk, now, "I do expect to be a godparent to your kids, though." She raised her eyebrows pointedly at him, while his shot up in surprise.

"Uh," He coughed awkwardly and chuckled, "okay." She laughed lightly and pulled him in for a hug, which he returned wholeheartedly.

He leaned against the wall opposite his door, waiting for Talbot to finish, and Daisy waited quietly with him. After some time had past and the door still hadn't opened, Coulson shifted worriedly.

"What do you think Talbot is saying to him in there?" Coulson wondered. "Do you think he actually trusts us that Jeff isn't an evil maniacal robot?"

"It'll be alright," Daisy assured him, looking over at him. "Talbot won't take him away from us." Coulson looked back at her, mildly surprised but completely touched that she seemed to know exactly what it was he was truly worried about. "I won't let him." Daisy promised fiercely.

"Why have you," Coulson wondered how to word this, "why have you been fighting so hard for him? For us?"

"You're my," Daisy laughed a little, as if it surprised her, "hell, Phil, you're probably the best friend I've ever had." She said, and his expression softened at her words. "I've mourned losing people that I've loved. And I know you have, too, but seeing you after the Framework... after Jeffrey's funeral - I couldn't bear seeing you go through that again. And we're in the dark together, right?" She gripped his hand companionably for a moment. "When I discovered there was a possibility of Jeff being alive, I was going to do my damnedest to get him back to you. You deserve some happiness, Phil."

"So do you." He whispered, knowing he could never repay her for this. She smiled and chuckled lightly, shaking her head at him.

"I am happy." She said, and by her tone she was doing more than simply conceding him - she meant it. "Being a part of something bigger..." She trailed off, and he grinned,

"Pieces of a puzzle?" He teased lightly, and her smile widened and she squeezed his hand.

"Exactly."

A moment later his office door finally opened, and they both turned toward it, their hands slipping apart. Talbot hesitated when he saw them standing there, but then approached them.

"You..." He began, and then seemed to change his train of thought. "There seem to be some gaps in his memory."

"We're working on that," Coulson nodded. "All of us had some straggling memories at first - we admittedly aren't sure why his are taking so much longer to return, but they _are_  returning."

Coulson wasn't about to tell this man about the particular block AIDA had put in Jeff's mind. No one (outside of Daisy, now) had known about him and Jeff and he was hoping to keep it that way. At least for a little while.

"I want updates on his condition." Talbot ordered. "I'll need to come up with some excuse for this that will appease Washington, not to mention the public..." Talbot sighed heavily and pressed his fingers against his eyes, for a moment revealing the heavy exhaustion that plagued him. "You're still acting Director," Talbot said to Coulson. "I'm not sure that we can ever make him Director again, no matter what excuse we come up with for his survival or if anyone will believe us."

"Agreed." Coulson replied quietly.

"He doesn't have any family here, right?" Daisy piped up. "His parents passed away a few years ago, and he was an only child. I could easily fudge up some records, give him a sibling..."

Talbot made an exasperated face.

"Not only is that _illegal_ , but who the hell would believe that man is a _sibling_  of Jeffrey Mace?" Talbot pointed back toward the office. "They have the exact same face!"

"Twin?" Daisy shrugged half-heartedly. "Separated at birth, perhaps."

Talbot sighed heavily again, but gave Daisy a short nod.

"I didn't hear this, and you didn't receive permission from me, but, this is probably the easiest way to go. Do what you need to do." He told her, and she nodded back.

"Thank you, Glen." Coulson said sincerely, and Talbot peered at him suspiciously for a moment.

"You risked a lot by going to his funeral, you know. There were a lot of press there." Talbot mentioned, and Coulson slipped his hands into his pockets, donning his (terrible) version of a poker face. "And you risked a lot by going back into that shit-fire hell-hole version of Nintendo to save the man's ass." Talbot made a face. "Or his brain. Whatever."

"I admit that we didn't trust Mace at first, but..." Daisy shared a look with Coulson. "He grew on us."

Talbot huffed at the obvious understatement, sighed once more, and straightened his back.

"Well, I guess it's nice to see that kind of loyalty within SHIELD, again. I'll see you later, Agent Johnson. Director." Talbot nodded at both of them and headed toward the stairs.

Daisy waited until he'd disappeared before putting her hand on Coulson's shoulder and gesturing her chin toward the office.

"I'll give you two a minute."

"Thanks, Daisy." Coulson said heavily, meaning it for everything, and she smiled at him before turning and following Talbot's footsteps.

Coulson took a deep breath, settling himself, before entering his office.  


* * *

 

Jeff and Trip were lounging at the bar on the Z-1, drinking a couple of beers together as they headed back to base. After a short and relatively easy mission, Daisy and Coulson had mutually agreed that it would be a good idea to stop by Pieta for Trip and Jeff to get a checkup by the Koenigs. It had all gone smoothly, and the two friends were now relaxing by themselves, sitting in comfortable silence.

Until Trip broke it, anyway.

"You totally dig the bossman, am I right?" Antoine smirked at his best friend, and Jeff almost swallowed his beer down his windpipe, and choked.

"What the hell, Trip!" Jeff complained, and Trip pursed his lips as he laughed, passing over a napkin.

"You've picked up on that, too, I see," He mused of the nickname. "It's kinda nice hearing it again, actually." He shrugged, and then pushed playfully at Jeff's shoulder as the other man wiped his mouth with the napkin. "I'm right though, right? You've got the hots for the Director."

"What the hell makes you say that?" Jeff wondered gruffly, immediately reaching for his beer again and taking a long swallow.

"Dude, I have _eyes_." Trip protested, his brow lifting pointedly. "And I've seen yours, going all soft and drifty," Trip gestured toward him with his bottle before he took another drink, and Jeff scowled at him, hoping his face didn't look as red as it felt. "You should get on that," He mused.

"Excuse me?" Jeff spluttered, suddenly understanding a bit of what Daisy had probably felt like a couple weeks ago. He wondered if she'd planned for Antoine to do this, as retaliation. He wouldn't put it past either of them.

"Dude, I'm your best friend, right? I gotta be your wingman!" He grinned widely, and Jeff couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head at the man's facial expression. "What better opportunity than now? We've still got a few hours before we're back at base, and there are far less people on this plane that can interrupt _important conversations_."

"My God." Jeff groaned, quickly finishing his bottle. It was already his second, and he was now tempted to open a third. He felt a nice heady buzz that comforted him, but he couldn't stop following Trip's train of thought.

This probably _was_  a pretty great opportunity for some one-on-one time with Coulson, maybe clear the air a little. Probably nothing like what _Trip_  was suggesting, but it still wouldn't do for him to get completely drunk right now.

"Duuuude, go on!" Trip chuckled and pushed at Jeff until he slipped off of the bar stool and onto his feet. Jeff glowered at him for a moment and yanked his suit jacket straight as if it needed it.

"I'm just... going to _talk_ ," Jeff informed his friend, who nodded and saluted his bottle toward him.

"Sure, sure."

Jeff grumbled under his breath as he trudged toward Coulson's office, trying to use his annoyance at his friend to cover up his nervousness for what he was about to do.

What _was_  he about to do, exactly?

Daisy was slipping out of Coulson's office as Jeff neared it, and they bumped into one another.

"Oh, sorry!" Daisy touched his arm for a moment, and then smiled at him sideways. "He's all yours."

"Are the two of you in cahoots?" Jeff demanded, and she laughed.

"The two of who?" She wondered innocently, and practically _flounced_  off, no doubt heading toward the bar to high-five Trip.

Jeff sighed heavily, and turned back toward the office, stepping inside carefully.

Coulson was sitting behind his desk, looking at the door having probably heard Jeff's voice in the hall.

"Can I, uh, do you mind if I close this?" Jeff asked, one hand on the door. Coulson nodded silently, his palms flat on his desk. Jeff didn't notice how his fingertips turned white with the pressure he was pushing down against the tabletop.

Once the door clicked shut, Jeff hesitated for a breath and then turned back to face his boss.

Coulson looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"I've been thinking," Jeff started carefully, approaching the desk slowly, "a lot lately about obligation."

He saw how Coulson swallowed before replying with a questioning 'yes?'.

"And about how I might've used to feel." Jeff continued, wishing Coulson wouldn't look so terrified. "About how I feel now." God, but his fingers were shaking - he clutched them together behind his back for a moment, hoping Coulson wouldn't see his nervousness. "I figured maybe I should stop waiting on my brain to maybe remember something, and just make new memories of my own."

"New memories." Coulson repeated, and Jeff nodded.

"Right now."

Coulson blurted out a laugh.

Jeff furrowed his brow, his hands falling to his sides. He'd had some thoughts on how Coulson would respond, but that wasn't exactly one of them.

"Jeff..." Coulson tilted his head a little, smiling oddly, and Jeff took a step back, toward the door. "Wait-" Coulson ordered quickly, shooting to his feet, and Jeff froze. He had no idea what to expect from Coulson now.

"....What?" Jeff wondered at the weird, amused look on Coulson's face.

"Jeff, this is," Coulson chuckled again, "this is where we first kissed. Right here in this office."

No wonder he sounded oddly a bit manic.

"Oh." Jeff replied dumbly. His chest kind of felt weird at that - the confirmation from Coulson himself that they had kissed before, and the fact that he couldn't directly remember it. He felt a little wrong-footed now, and didn't know what to say next.

Coulson visibly hesitated for a moment, and then stepped around to the front of his desk.

"Jeff," Coulson called softly, pulling Jeff's attention from his own shoes up toward the man's eyes. "I stood here, and I told you that you would always have a place to belong."

Jeff relaxed as he realized Coulson wasn't pushing him away.

"And the look on your face," Coulson chuckled and shook his head, getting pulled into the memory for a moment. Jeff couldn't help but watch as closely as possible as Coulson seemed to relive the moment. "Like a... puppy. So hopeful, and... trusting." Coulson met his gaze again suddenly, and Jeff couldn't shift his eyes away this time. "Thankful. Reverent, almost - and I hadn't felt I deserved that."

Coulson stepped toward him almost like he was drifting, aware of what he was doing but still speaking of the memory he was retelling,

"But I realized then, that it wasn't just... a _place_ , that you were desperate for."

Jeff licked his lips at Coulson's tone of voice, his fingers shaking with nerves for a whole different reason, now. His heart thrummed in his chest with anticipation.

"What do you want?" Coulson whispered curiously, standing well within arms reach of Jeff now, and Jeff closed his eyes, unable to continue staring into Coulson's deep blue ones.

"Phil," He sighed quietly, unknowingly repeating the memory almost exactly.

Coulson made a noise, then, one that Jeff couldn't quite define, but he soon wasn't occupied by that thought, or any thought really, because Coulson's mouth was hot and wet and demanding and kissing Jeff as if his life depended on it.

Jeff moaned, his hands gripping at Coulson's dress shirt as Coulson tilted his head and deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into Jeff's mouth, working with a familiarity that was entirely new to Jeff and frankly made him hard as a rock.

They kissed roughly and frantically, Jeff determined to refamiliarize himself with Coulson's mouth, but Coulson determined to make up for lost time. They battled for dominance of the kiss, something Jeff had an inkling of that they didn't used to do, going by the way Coulson seemed to groan and melt against Jeff's body.

"Oh, fuck," Coulson hummed against Jeff's lips as he felt Jeff's erection pressed against his thigh, Jeff's trousers doing next-to-nothing to hide it.

Jeff whined and rolled his hips into Coulson's leg, far too aroused to be embarrassed about the sounds he was making. God, Coulson was so good at this, no wonder he'd been overwhelmed by these fragmented memories and daydreams. Coulson's hands gripped Jeff's hips, hard enough to leave bruises, as he shifted his knee to slide his leg back and forth along the inseam of Jeff's trousers.

"Aw, hell, hell, hell," Jeff panted, tilting his head back to try and get some oxygen into his body. Coulson started mouthing along his jaw, and traced the tip of his tongue along the curve of Jeff's ear, making Jeff shudder and slide his hands around Coulson's back to hold him even tighter against him. All he could think about was Coulson's mouth, that tongue, on his-

"Jeffrey." Coulson spoke urgently, though he was just as out of breath as Jeff was.

Jeff refocused, realizing that Coulson was trying to pull back slightly, and he loosened his hold. Coulson did step his leg back away from Jeff's pelvis, but didn't otherwise move away too far.

"I really, _really_ , don't want to stop," Coulson breathed, and Jeff grinned a little, sliding his hands back to Coulson's waist.

"Then don't," He suggested, leaning in and licking at Coulson's mouth. Coulson's eyes closed and his lips parted immediately, as if he couldn't help it, as Jeff darted his tongue inside and lapped at the roof of his mouth. "Call me a puppy," Jeff whispered warningly, teasingly, but lowly, before setting back to what he was doing.

Coulson made that noise again, that same one he'd made right before initiating the kiss, and his hands slipped down around Jeff's ass and he tugged, rolling their hips together full-on this time. Jeff nipped at his upper lip, before tracing the tip of his tongue along the curve of it. Coulson was hard, too; Jeff could feel it through his own trousers.

"Let me guess," Jeff mused, his scruff scraping against Coulson's neck and making the man moan again, "I wasn't usually ... the one to take initiative, before?" He pushed his tongue beneath the collar of Coulson's shirt, licking at the light sheen of sweat on his skin. He felt Coulson shake his head in the negative and Jeff smirked against his skin as he reached up to grip Coulson's tie. "Do you want me to?" Jeff asked, himself feeling more than comfortable to do so. He imagined it had something to do with the confident leadership he'd held within the Framework. Confidence could translate through many different situations, after all, and he was aware that he hadn't had much in this world, before.

Coulson sucked in a breath when Jeff yanked lightly once on his tie.

"Do you want me?" Jeff asked again, purposefully ending his repetition one word early.

"Fuck, Jeff, we should probably take this slow," Coulson gasped, his hands still pressed tightly against Jeff's lower back.

Jeff paused his ministrations on Coulson's neck, his other hand slipping down to Coulson's hip to hold it still and away from his own.

"If you," Jeff tried to clear his head a bit, but couldn't dare pull himself completely away from the heat of Coulson's body. "If you really want to, I'll leave this room immediately. But fuck, Phil - " Jeff pressed his nose beneath the curve of Coulson's jaw, breathing deeply. "Fuck," he sighed quietly.

"Where did this come from?" Coulson wondered breathily, sounding like he was smiling, but Jeff hadn't yet pulled his face from Coulson's neck so he couldn't see it. One of Coulson's hands drifted up, his fingernails scraping against Jeff's scalp, pushing through his hair slowly.

Jeff shivered and held both sides of his waist in his grip, now, doing his best not to thrust his hips anymore.

"Over these past weeks you have seemed more comfortable around me when I'm," Jeff sighed, trying to find the right word, "timid? Less like the Framework Patriot, more like the Mace you remember." Jeff finally managed to tilt his head back to face Coulson. " _Puppy_." He added pointedly, and Coulson pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, blushing.

"I just,"

"I didn't want to freak you out. But Christ, Phillip, for weeks I've been trying to figure out what are memories and what are fantasies and it's everything I can do not to throw you against the nearest wall and - "

He'd gotten carried away again, but he guessed it was okay this time, because Coulson was interrupting him by shoving his mouth against his again.

"I want you to be _you_ , Jeff," Coulson promised against his lips, between their kisses. "I just want..." He cupped his hand around the bulge in Jeff's trousers and squeezed firmly. "Dammit. I don't want to take this slow." Coulson admitted, sliding both hands across Jeff's shoulders now to push the man's jacket off.

Jeff pulled back to shrug it away quickly, letting it fall to the floor as he watched Coulson pull at his own tie. Jeff's eyebrow quirked slightly in a moment of surprise, but he yanked apart his own tie quickly enough, his breath quickening as he watched Coulson's tongue dart out against his lower lip. Jeff couldn't really focus on his own clothes anymore.

"Phil," Jeff warned just before he cradled the man's jaw and kissed him hard. He pushed his palms firmly across Coulson's shirt, pulling the loose tie from around his collar and beginning to open the buttons as he curled his tongue inside the other man's mouth. Coulson's fingers drifted back into Jeff's hair, scratching and tugging pleasantly without being painful, and Jeff tilted his head back for a moment to catch his breath.

"Hmm, there's that puppy face again," Coulson teased breathily, and Jeff snapped his mouth closed and opened his eyes, narrowing them in Coulson's direction.

"I'll show you a fuckin' puppy face," Jeff grinned teasingly, nuzzling against the hollow of Coulson's throat and pressing his tongue flat against his skin. Coulson sucked in a loud breath and his hand gripped the back of Jeff's hair, but he didn't stop him.

Coulson grunted at the warmth of Jeff's mouth and the scratch of his growing beard, his other hand scrambling to tug the ends of his shirt from his pants. Jeff brushed his hand out of the way and finished unbuttoning his shirt, and as he did so he also traced the tip of his tongue against the scar on Coulson's chest, kissing it reverently. The action was far less heated and sexual as anything else he'd done so far, but did it had Coulson trembling and grabbing at the man's shoulders, hauling him up.

"You may not remember this," Coulson tried to catch his breath, "But my couch unfolds into the bed."

Jeff grinned slowly at him, and as he went to fix up the bed, Jeff began unbuttoning his own shirt.  
  


* * *

 


End file.
